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Kutztown | Culture

Death Follows You

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Kutztown Contributor Student Contributor, Kutztown University
KU Contributor Student Contributor, Kutztown University
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Kutztown chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

Death follows you

It follows you through your eyes, always your eyes. Out of their corners you spy not a rope, but a noose. You picture it fitting well, wrapped around your neck, the skin around it bulging. Both beautiful and grotesque

You force away your gaze, feeling tempted

It follows you through your eyes as it glimpses upon ledges, and coerces your body towards them. You look down from them, judging if it’s tall enough. High enough so when you plunge, its arms are ready. Ready to embrace you

Again, you force yourself away. You turn from it, keeping it from your sight. But the temptation is higher

By the end of the year, you’ve scoped out the ideal spots, ideal to become one with the ground, it’s arms wide open

Lucky you though, you’re afraid of heights. “Coward”, you think. Even death can’t force you to dance, right off the edge into your grave

At least not yet

Your friends often ask “why”. They ask of your life, ask what’s wrong. Ask what they did wrong. Begging, in fear or frustration, for a simple explanation. It doesn’t exist

And you wonder “why”. Why they cannot listen as you speak of the death in your eyes, eyes that are not exclusively yours. You’ve seen in it their eyes, those friends. You’ve helped blind them, even if only for a while. Over and over and over again

You too need to blind it. You need the bleach your arms can’t reach- to pour it over your eyes till nothing remains. But still you are given what you not need. You don’t need this. No “whys”, no “how’s”, no lackluster advice written on walls your eyes cannot hear. Displaced sympathy, unable to understand and unable to reach your vision

Again they ask for fault, where everything went wrong: But death never cares for reasons or faults, it beckons all the same. Like a temptress, but without the promise of sex or wealth or endless luxuries

Instead, tempting you to an end. To finality.

The temptress in my eyes, I feel it growing stronger. I’m scared of myself.

May someone blind me first

Written 9/25/17

Even if you’re in a place this dark, you can still push through it, don’t give in to these feelings and thoughts inside you. You are stronger than them

Fight